


Belonging to Vader

by GettingGreyer



Category: Star Wars Legends: Force Unleashed - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingGreyer/pseuds/GettingGreyer
Summary: Starkiller was Darth Vader's weapon and everything he did was to help Vader accomplish his missions. He trained, he ate, he slept, and he lived so that Vader could use his talents. But, there is one thing Starkiller does entirely for himself ... that is until Vader catches him.Or: Darth Vader catches Starkiller masturbating.
Relationships: Galen Marek/Darth Vader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9
Collections: Merry Month of Masturbation 2020





	Belonging to Vader

**Author's Note:**

> Happy May the Fourth!
> 
> So, last night I was thinking about _The Force Unleashed_ and then I decided that I should write a fic for it for the Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge. I had a couple of ideas. I kind of wanted to do a more awkward/somewhat romantic fic between Galen and Juno, but then I decided to just go Fucked Up and make this.

His body was a tool—a weapon wielded by his Master and used to strike down Lord Vader's enemies. He built up his strength through vigorous training and honed his mind through intense meditation. Everything he did to his body was in service of his Master, because he was not a man but Darth Vader's assassin.

But …

There was one thing he did entirely for himself. It had started years ago when his body began to change; the most noticeable change had been one he didn't know how to describe. He had felt constantly as if he was on the verge of exploding. His body was one that he had spent years controlling, but suddenly he could not control all of it. He'd thrust his hips into his pillows and his hand would stroke down his cock. He couldn't control himself—the urge would consume him entirely in painful suspense until he gave in.

And he did. And he has given in many more times over the years. He no longer attempts to fight it. His body is used to service his Master and in order to be an effective weapon he must also service his body.

There were few places on the Executor that were truly private, so he returned to the Rogue Shadow after briefing Lord Vader on the success of his latest mission. He would have usually gone to his quarters for his planned activity, since the Rogue Shadow was usually at risk of its pilot returning for maintenance. But the pilot had been killed in the latest mission and he had always felt more comfortable on the ship than in his private quarters.

He opened the doors to his ship and quickly set off to the lounge. He didn't waste any time in pulling down his pants as he sat down in a chair. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as his hand quickly wrapped around his cock in a firm hold.

He lightly squeezed in preparation before beginning his long strokes along the length. He gasped and he began to thrust into his hand. He gently massaged his cock, pleasure shooting through his body as he rhythmically squeezed. His hand moved to the tip and he could feel his cock harden further under his attention. He thrusted hard and fast into his tight fist and seed spilled from his cock as he came.

He took a minute to breath, enjoying the buzzing pleasure that took hold of him. He pumped his cock gently as he prepared for another round—not even close to finished, but then he heard a deep mechanical breathing and his hand froze around his erect dick.

"You've made quite the mess on your ship." Darth Vader's deep voice echoed with sinister cadence.

"My Lord," he instantly stood, but all that did was bring further attention to his hardened member. His Master's eyes were hidden behind the large mask, but he could have sworn that Darth Vader was staring directly at his cock.

He had thrown his pants on the floor, so he couldn't even cover himself and he dared not move without his Master's permission. His heart was racing with fear and the longer Darth Vader stared in silence, the more anxious he became.

"You should be training, instead of wasting your time with these frivolities."

"Yes, my Master." His voice shivered in the air.

He waited for his Master's next words or punishment. He prepared himself for the potential of a beating or the burning of fire, but instead there was only the cold breathing of Darth Vader's respirator.

His cock was still uncomfortably hard and the cold air only seemed to make it grow harder. It twitched from the lack of attention and his Master's gaze seemed to not have moved from his member. He was once again reminded of how weak his own body was—he couldn't control his own cock which throbbed between his legs.

"Finish yourself," Darth Vader finally spoke and he could hardly believe his Master's words. He didn't move and he struggled to respond. He couldn't have heard Lord Vader correctly, but then his Master angrily repeated himself. "Touch yourself till you're finished."

He didn't want to. His Master was staring at him and his cock ached to be touched, but he didn't want to come for his Master. But he had no choice and he realized what his Master was telling him. His body was not his own. He was a tool and a weapon to be used as Darth Vader pleased. And even his own pleasure did not belong to him, because Lord Vader was his Master.

His hand reached towards his cock—his Master didn't move and stared at him—and he carefully took it in his hand. He hated how it reacted to his touch. His cock twitched with excitement as he began to stroke it. He felt sick and weak, while his cock eagerly thrusted with his palm.

He couldn't stop himself—his cock needed him to continue and his Master's silent gaze demanded he did. He felt himself grow light headed as he continued to thrust his hips. He came again, but he didn't stop his movements as hot seed spilled from his cock. He continued to rock his hips and slam his dick into his fist as he tightly squeezed along its length.

It no longer felt pleasurable and instead he felt sickly pain spread through his body as his cock relaxed and stiffened uncontrollably in his hand. He didn't stop thrusting as Darth Vader looked at him—his Master's slow breathing never quickened but slowly filled the room. All he could hear was his Master and all he could feel was pain and fear engulfing his body. 

He wanted to stop. To plead with his Master to let him stop, but his cock was still hard in his hands and his Master wouldn't let him release until he cummed so hard his cock emptied entirely.

His hand viciously stroked along his member and he cummed again and again. He wasn't sure how many times he did or how long he was touching his cock, but eventually it felt soft in his hands and it ached uncomfortably.

His hand was covered in his own sticky cum and the floor was also dirtied by his seed. But he had finally finished. He looked towards his Master and he heard what sounded like a scoff.

"Clean up this mess and report to the training room when you're finished." His Master stalked out of the ship and left him finally alone.

His body no longer felt like his own and instead he felt empty and separate from it. It wasn't his body, but his Master's and his Master had taken his pleasure from him.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write a fic where Starkiller has zero identity or agency. He doesn't even have a name in this and isn't even referred to by "Starkiller." He has no choices or agency and I think masturbation would be the only agency he could possibly have. It's an expression of his desires and sexuality seperate from his identity as Vader's apprentice, but Vader even takes that away from him.


End file.
